(no subject)
Can I take part in the first lines thingy? This I wrote for tialys. Hope you like it! (Sorry, it's not betaed yet.)
"I'm so sorry, my boy."
Frodo peered up to the blueness of the sky. Perhaps he could not say blue. It was more of... nothing if he gave a more palpable look. Frodo knew many people think the sky is blue, but now that he lent a thought for it, he realized the blueness seemed unreal. Non-existant. At first it might look blue, but then it slowly went paler and eventually it became transparent. Nothing.
The tilted head descended, leaving the blanched sky to care for its own business. Frodo stared helplessly at the low mound of earth that managed to be named a hill, covered with an ardent blanket of green grass. Green. At least Frodo was certain the color would not be fading soon. Especially now that the two most beloved people of his rested underneath.
"I'm so sorry, my boy."
A tickle alighting on his bare forearm, Frodo gazed down and caught his breath. A beautiful butterfly, garish with bright colors and patterns, its tiny legs scratched the hobbit's skin, reminding him of his mother's strokes through his hair. Comforting and soothing. Ready to send Frodo to immediate sleep.
Stay, whispered Frodo inaudibly to the butterfly. He bit his lip when all of a sudden its wings flapped and the butterfly fled into the air.
"I'm so sorry, my boy."
"I'm so sorry, my boy."
Frodo peered up to the blueness of the sky. Perhaps he could not say blue. It was more of... nothing if he gave a more palpable look. Frodo knew many people think the sky is blue, but now that he lent a thought for it, he realized the blueness seemed unreal. Non-existant. At first it might look blue, but then it slowly went paler and eventually it became transparent. Nothing.
The tilted head descended, leaving the blanched sky to care for its own business. Frodo stared helplessly at the low mound of earth that managed to be named a hill, covered with an ardent blanket of green grass. Green. At least Frodo was certain the color would not be fading soon. Especially now that the two most beloved people of his rested underneath.
"I'm so sorry, my boy."
A tickle alighting on his bare forearm, Frodo gazed down and caught his breath. A beautiful butterfly, garish with bright colors and patterns, its tiny legs scratched the hobbit's skin, reminding him of his mother's strokes through his hair. Comforting and soothing. Ready to send Frodo to immediate sleep.
Stay, whispered Frodo inaudibly to the butterfly. He bit his lip when all of a sudden its wings flapped and the butterfly fled into the air.
"I'm so sorry, my boy."